


The blessed and the fallen

by IneffableDumbass (GCST45)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cults, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aziraphale is in a cult that ruins your life if you try to live, Crowley is an ex-member and he wants to get Aziraphale out of there, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gabriel is a preacher, Intimidation, M/M, Manipulation, Religious Cults, Tags will be added, Threats of Violence, and this will get worse, english is not my first language, he's so brain-washed he genuinely thinks they're good people, very complicated systematic opression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-24 02:56:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21331126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GCST45/pseuds/IneffableDumbass
Summary: The Ineffable Church is not a religion; it's a family. Members are caring souls who go out of their way not only to protect each other, but also people in times of need. They perform authentic miracles in a regular basis and it's not unheard of that they call themselves angels. In fact, no one would deny it.No one who isn't in the Black Book. Being in the Black Book means you fell in disgrace. You betrayed the ideals of the Ineffable Church, and you will pay for it till the last day of your life. The Black Book is, sooner or later, a death sentence.Everyone in the Ineffable Church know they are not supposed to interact with people in the Black Book. Only smiling at them is an unforgivable sin. Aziraphale is so aware of it it hurts.Then, why can't he help to want to be close to the cynical fallen who shows up one day at his bookshop, claiming to be making a documentary that will show the truth about the Ineffable Church? Why someone who means so much danger makes him feel safer than ever? At what cost?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Los benditos y los caídos](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21423844) by [IneffableDumbass (GCST45)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GCST45/pseuds/IneffableDumbass)

> So, this is my first multi-chaptered Gomens fic. It is also my first human AU. I think it's pretty self-explanatory, but just in case it gets confusing, all you need to know is that the Ineffable Church doesn't tolerate its members breaking the rules. If you leave (or if they decide to kick you out) you end up in some kind of blacklist. Being here means that the church takes everything it gave you away and basically does everything in its power to ruin your life. Everything else is stupidly simple, I hope. English is not my first language and I don't have a betareader, so please keep that in mind. This story might be triggering, so I'll give you an individual warning for every chapter. The first one is just intimidation and manipulation, I guess. Let me know if there's something else I should tag. And please enjoy! <3

Aziraphale is one of the lucky ones. He never had to deal with a fallen at his bookshop. It’s like they know. They probably know. A. Z. Fell & Co. is one of the most famous miracles from the last two decades. It even appeared on T.V. The opening day, all England got to watch a younger Aziraphale crying out of pure happiness, twenty of his brothers and sisters around him, Gabriel with a hand on his shoulder, smiling and saying “this is what our faith and our combined effort can do.”

Sure, they have done other amazing things during that time, including helping with the treatment of an old lady’s cancer. But A. Z. Fell & Co. was expensive and poetic enough for the media to take interest on it. The story of a lost man who was left with nothing finding a new family in the Ineffable Church and fulfilling his dream of having his own bookshop and collecting rare editions of all kinds of literature was something no reporter wanted to waste.

So the fallen must be aware they’re not welcomed here. If they show up, he’ll have to ask them to leave. He’s not allowed to sell them anything or even smile. One of his former brothers —a young baker who also lived in Soho— fell simply because he smiled politely at a fallen when he told her he couldn’t take her dirty, sinful money —the use of those exact words is also required—. Somehow, Gabriel found out. Maybe another client who was also a sibling saw the incident and told him. Two weeks later, the young baker lost his business and house, and his wife was forced to divorce him, since fallen can’t love and it would make her impure.

Sometimes Aziraphale sees him on the street. He’s usually sitting in a corner, begging for change, and his sad blue eyes search for Aziraphale’s, but Aziraphale has to look away, because a minimum act of sympathy could be enough for him to suffer the same consequences. When he learned what occurred, he had to resist the urge of asking Gabriel about it. Such mercilessness didn’t seem like him. But he couldn’t do that, since questioning is also against the rules.

Despite this, Aziraphale always does his best not to give the fallen a harder time than the one they already have. Last week he went to an Italian restaurant and recognized his waitress from the Black Book. She seemed to recognize him, too, if the face she made and the way she froze were an indicative of anything. The Ineffable Code ordered him to start screaming there was a roach in his spaghetti or telling the manager she had offered to perform fellatio on him under the table, but he couldn’t bring himself to do any of those things. She looked so scared.

So he decided to let it go, pretending he didn’t notice, avoiding being extremely polite and praying that none of his siblings were there. He then went to the altar at his closest centre of worship and begged for the Almighty’s forgiveness, first saying he didn’t understand why She would ask him to do something like that if She loved all of Her children, then taking it back and just saying he was sorry.

When Gabriel informed him he wanted to talk with him later that day, Aziraphale was nervous they had caught him. But, far from it, what Gabriel wanted to do was praise him! Well, Aziraphale was quite used to that. Though he didn’t mean to brag —bragging is a sin—, he knew he was one of the best worshippers. His obedience was genuine, not simple fear of what God —or his siblings— could do to him if he behaved poorly. Since he entered the Ineffable Church he had ascended to angel and, after that, to principality. At first he was afraid it might be blasphemous to use those kind of titles being human, but Gabriel patiently explained that it was what God expected.

“She didn’t create angels or demons,” he said. “She only made us, Her children. And look at us! We perform real, actual miracles, don’t we? The Ineffable Church is not only the instrument She gave us to be closer to Her; it is also the ability to perform miracles. Isn’t that what angels are supposed to do?”

Yes, basically. Besides, Gabriel is an archangel, and the first thing you learn when you get into the Ineffable Church is that an archangel’s word is the law.

Gabriel has been talking a lot about Aziraphale taking his place when he retires. Aziraphale enjoys the idea —in fact, it seems like a dream come true—, but he’s not convinced. For starters, he would have to close his business and move to the centre of worship. A preacher needs to be there all the time and all of his incomes are from the siblings, who lovingly pay the monthly fee in order to keep being members of the Church. It is his job to make sure no one leaves the good path and solve the problems of the ones who stay on it.

An honourable duty. It was Gabriel who moved sky and earth for Aziraphale to get his bookshop. He can just imagine what it would be like to give so much happiness to other people. Brothers and sisters, nothing less. Most of them come from similar backgrounds. Poverty, negligence, abuse. They found a place in the Ineffable Church, under the Almighty’s protection. In particularly emotional days, the thought alone is enough to make Aziraphale cry.

Still, he isn’t sure he can be a good preach, a good archangel. He isn’t sure he wants it. Well, at least he doesn’t have to deal with fallen in the security of his beloved bookshop.

This is one of those quiet afternoons when not a lot of customers stop by. Since there’s not much to do and his next rare Oscar Wilde won’t arrive till Friday, Aziraphale relaxes reading a book behind the counter, sighing contently at the promise of a nice day on his own. He doesn’t even pay attention when the doorbell rings.

He hears a presence moving around, but doesn’t look up till a loud noise makes him jump. A man is there, exclaiming “fuck!” as he prevents a shaking coat rack from falling. He’s tall and skinny and has red hair. He also makes Aziraphale feel slightly apprehensive, though the reason is unclear.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, didn’t know that was there!” He quickly excuses himself, and it’s when he establishes eye contact that Aziraphale understands.

He starts hyperventilating as he searches into the drawers of the counter. The stranger keeps examining random stuff, but Aziraphale can only focus on what he is looking for. Finally, his fingers reach it. The soft cover of the Black Book creates waves of comfort and warmth that wash over him. It’s ironic how a book that has ruined so many lives has the power to make him feel so safe.

He flips through the pages. He knows he has seen this man here. The Ineffable Code insists they must read the Black Book at least two hours a day, in order to immediately identify any fallen just by sight.

He’s beginning to think he might be confused when he finds it. “_Anthony J. Crowley. Sin: questioning._” He didn’t wear shades back then and his hair was longer, but there’s no doubt it’s him.

“Um, hi there,” Anthony J. Crowley awkwardly says, walking to the counter. “Are you…”

“I’m sorry, we’re closed!” Aziraphale chokes out, rushing to the backroom.

“No, no, no, no, wait, I just wanna…”

The forbidden costumer tries to follow him, but he slams the door inches away from his face. He rests his back against the wood surface and holds the Black Book close to his chest. He wishes he had the Bible or at least the Ineffable Code, though the weight of this sacred object pressed against his heart does calm him a bit.

“Look, I’m not having a great day, alright?” Crowley insists, knocking. “Can you just come out and…”

“No,” Aziraphale interrupts, opening the door enough to show his face and shutting it as soon as the word ends.

“But…”

“I won’t take your dirty, sinful money,” he adds, just as quickly, repeating the action.

“I’m not trying to buy anything. I’m just trying to start a bloody conversation!”

This time, he doesn’t close the door again. He simply opens it and stands there, face to face with the enemy. His breath catches on his throat and for a second he thinks he sees something in Crowley’s eyes, behind the dark glasses, and he’s quite sure his eyes did the same thing, but it’s so fast and he’s so scared he can’t even get a grip of it before it vanishes, implying he might as well have had imagined it.

“Please,” he sighs. Even though it’s meant to be politely demanding, it sounds like he’s begging. “Please leave me alone. I know who you are and you know who I am. We don’t have to go through this.”

“Then you are A. Z. Fell, aren’t you?”

“Well, of course, who else could I be?”

“Just wanted to make sure you were the person I had to contact.”

“You had to contact me? What…?” He realizes what he’s taking a part on. “No, don’t bother. I am not participating in this conversation.”

He walks around Crowley and pretends to be organizing one of the shelves, hoping that he won’t longer be there when he turns back. Crowley follows him.

“Fine, don’t talk to me, just listen. I…”

“Mr. Crowley, please!” Aziraphale gives up, facing him. His voice comes out completely broken. “I’m trying to be polite, but you’re making it extremely difficult. I don’t want to call you all of those terrible things.”

“Oh, so they didn’t fuck you up completely. Ngh, good to know.”

“Whatever do you mean, now?”

“Well, I assume you’re still with them, right?”

“With whom?”

“The cultists.”

Aziraphale feels indignation boiling inside his veins.

“You can’t possibly be referring to the Ineffable Church.”

“Yeah, the Ineffable Church, right. So, are you still with them?”

“Of course! What kind of question is that? The Ineffable Church is a lifelong compromise. It guides our actions through life on Earth and guarantees our place in Heaven.”

He can see Crowley blink behind his glasses.

“Ngk… Of course, of course, that’s great, didn’t exactly work for me, but great, great.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Aziraphale says judgingly, fixing his waistcoat. “The Ineffable Church works for everyone. The only condition is that you have to commit. If you don’t have the strength to commit, it’s natural that it…”

“Oh,” Crowley laughs. His tone is full of sarcasm and bitterness and it makes Aziraphale even angrier. “I didn’t expect this this soon.”

“I can’t imagine what did you expect from walking into an ambassador of God’s business but this.”

“Ambassador of God! That sounds a bit holier-than-thou, don’t you think?”

“Yes, perhaps because I am, indeed, a bit holier than you. After all, I am an angel and you are a fallen.”

“Oh, right, you call yourselves ‘angels,’” he chuckles.

“Naturally. We do the will of God and bring the joy of Her love and power to other mortals. That ignoring the fact that our good deeds could be considered miracles.”

“Your good deeds? Miracles? Sorry, do you mean those good deeds when you get cashiers and waitresses fired?”

“Crowley…” he warns.

“Or that wonderful miracle when one of you left a pregnant woman and her child die? ’Cause let me tell you, that was the holiest thing I have ever…”

“He had to!” Aziraphale explodes, tears filling his eyes. “She had broken her promise. She had fallen in disgrace. Assisting her would have made him fall, too. It’s against the rules.”

Crowley seems taken aback, his mouth shutting, but it’s too late. Aziraphale suddenly finds himself crying and he doesn’t know why. Gabriel says it’s normal. The humans are still new to the grace of God. They didn’t start to experience it with the intensity they were meant to till rather recent times. Sometimes it’s overwhelming. And it’s also expectable to feel sad or hurt by the way most people reject the truth. That’s why they have to let the fallen out of society, or at least their own circle. They’re not only impure; they are actively harmful.

“Angel…” Crowley says, reaching a hand towards him.

Aziraphale sobs into his own palms and shakes before he reaches his shoulder.

“Angel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“No. You meant it. You are a monster, you are the enemy, and you mean everything you say. You just want to confuse me.”

“I don’t want to confuse you. I just wanted to talk. Sorry I brought up that sketchy topic.”

“How do you know about that, anyway?” he asks, whipping some tears away. The part about getting people fired is something he might learned during his short time in the church, but the death of the pregnant woman is a new and well-kept secret.

“The guy told me.”

“Brother Gary told you?” He can’t hide his surprise —and his pain, since he’ll have to inform Gabriel about Gary’s betrayal—.

“No, not him. The other one. They were together when it happened. Marvin.”

Marvin. He was one of the latest additions to the Black Book. His charge was also questioning.

“How did you meet him?”

A shadow of pride crosses Crowley’s face.

“Oh, it wasn’t easy, let me tell you. Some friends in common, I guess. I heard rumours about him losing his job and girlfriend and I suspected it had something to do with this. So I contacted him and… Let’s just say he was very eager to speak.”

“Why would you want him to do that?”

Crowley sighs like he’s trapped.

“Because I’m making a film, angel.”

“A film?” Aziraphale questions, determined not to let the pet name do anything funny. He _is_ an angel, anyway.

“Yes, a film. A documentary, if you want details. About… all of this.”

“A documentary about the Ineffable Church? Oh, that sounds divine!” He can barely fight his enthusiasm.

“Do you like documentaries, angel?” asks Crowley, smiling a little.

Aziraphale abruptly feels guilty for smiling so much. He eases his face’s muscles till the smile becomes a small grin, not showing teeth, far more humble, as it should be.

“Well, I haven’t watched one in years. We are not allowed to watch films, remember?”

Crowley nods like he feels bad for him.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’d like this one, either. What I want to show is… the real thing, you know? Not the speech you guys try to sell to the outsiders, but the truth.”

“The truth?”

“Mhmh, the truth. The things that were going on when I was there. The things that are still going on.”

Aziraphale crosses his arms over his chest, defensive.

“I certainly don’t know what you are talking about. Might I ask why would you need ex-Brother Marvin’s testimony if you claim to have lived ‘the truth’ yourself?”

“Come on, you already know why. You probably study who left, when and how long they were in every night. I lasted like… three weeks. I left before getting too into it and even then they wanted to ruin my life.”

That pain in his chest again. Crowley shrugs his concerns off.

“I was lucky enough to have friends out of it. And a diploma. Most of you don’t have that, huh?”

“I do have a diploma. I went to Oxford,” Aziraphale corrects him, visibly upset.

“But you don’t have any friends outside, do you?”

He takes a few steps back, finding himself struggling to keep his balance. His fury increases when the weird feeling is gone.

“I don’t need friends outside! And I am not supposed to have them, it is also against the rules. It doesn’t come as a surprise you lasted three weeks. You couldn’t commit to the simplest of…”

“I’m not here to fight,” Crowley cuts him.

“Then what are you here for?”

“I already told you, I don’t know much about the Ineffable Church. I have interviewed some fallen members, but now I need the perspective of an insider and everybody just slams their doors on my nose.”

“Of course they do!” Aziraphale exclaims. “First of all, we are not allowed to… fraternize with fallen members. And second, no good member of the Ineffable Church would do anything to hurt it. We protect each other and our institution. We don’t go around telling secrets or spreading misinformation based on mean-spirited rumours. We, Crowley, are a family.”

“Then take it as an opportunity to show that to the people!” Crowley persists. “Common people don’t know a lot about the Ineffable Church, either. They know what that Gabriel guy tells them, but he just repeats what every cultist says. How could they difference you from any cult if you sound the same? People want… more details. They want to see what they’re missing. If they don’t know, they’ll imagine stuff. And, angel, we both know they’re imagining stuff. Fallen members have already… told stories. This is a chance to…”

“As if you weren’t planning on showing those stories, too!”

“I’ll show what I’ve got. If I only get that kind of story, I’ll show that kind of story. If I get another version, I’ll show that other version. I’m not finding any other version between fallen members, and current members won’t even talk to me. So…”

“So I’m not talking to you, either,” Aziraphale concludes, determined. “Now, if you’d be so kind, _leave me alone_.”

Crowley waits for a second. When he sees Aziraphale won’t change his mind, he turns around on his heels and prepares to walk out the door. Then the door opens.

“Aziraphale, good afternoon!” says Gabriel, as cheerful as always.

The angle doesn’t let him see Crowley, but he will see him when he gets closer to the counter. Aziraphale’s heart starts beating out of control. This is it. His life is over. If that baker lost everything for smiling at a fallen, what Aziraphale has just done… He thinks he’s about to pass out, when Crowley brings an index finger to his own lips and disappears in the backroom, closing the door.

“Oh, hello, Gabriel,” Aziraphale forces a grin, pretending he isn’t absolutely terrified. “What brings you here today?”

“I just wanted to check on you.” His smile disappears. “I… I didn’t see you at this Sunday’s service.”

“I’m so sorry, Gabriel. I’m afraid I was quite sick. I couldn’t even get out of my bed.”

This is partially true. What he doesn’t tell him is that the reason why he got sick in the first place, was that he ate too many macarons the night before. Eating in excess is a sin that must be paid with days of fasting, and even though it’s not impossible, Aziraphale couldn’t manage it. The Almighty surely won’t mind such a small offence.

Gabriel’s smile returns.

“Oh, great, then. The rest of the archangels and I were rather worried. Especially Sandalphon.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m in perfectly good health now. Expect me next Sunday and I won’t disappoint.”

“I’m sure you won’t. And that’s just what I told Sandalphon. You see… he was particularly concerned because last week he had dinner at an Italian restaurant not too far from here and…”

Aziraphale gulps.

“And?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. He just… he thought he saw something. But he must have been wrong. It’s… it’s impossible. Listen here.” Gabriel can barely contain his laughter. “He thought he saw you eating a few tables away from him, ignoring the fact that your waitress was a fallen. Insane, don’t you think?”

Aziraphale gulps again. Then he reacts.

“Uh, yes! Yes, of course. Absolutely… No, he must have confused me with someone else.”

“I told him exactly that! I told him ‘you have to be kidding. Principality Aziraphale is one of our best angels and he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that the only response to seeing a fallen at their workplace is getting them fired or in significant trouble with their employers. He’s aware that the consequences of fraternizing with a fallen are terrible and he would never disobey in such a basic level.’”

“Of course! I wouldn’t dare. I wouldn’t think about it.”

“I’m glad.” He steps uncomfortably closer, their noses almost touch. “You are very dear to me, Aziraphale. And I would hate losing you over such an insignificant thing as… a fallen’s life.”

For an instant, Aziraphale is certain that Gabriel knows. He perishes the thought fast enough, though. Because Gabriel trusts him and cares for him and he wouldn’t do anything to cause him distress. He’s just trying to protect him and their sacred work.

“I’ll see you next Sunday, then,” Gabriel concludes, cheerful again, and leaves before Aziraphale can say goodbye.

Aziraphale stands very still and counts the seconds. His whole body is shaking and he can’t do anything to stop it. Vomit climbs the inside of his throat and goes back down before the bitter taste reaches his mouth. The familiar burning in his eyes makes a new appearance. When Crowley walks out the backroom, he’s sobbing uncontrollably.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” says Crowley, voice sweet, arms wrapping around him.

Aziraphale accepts the gesture, melts into it. There’s nothing else he can do. The warmth and comfort is welcomed.

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

He finally breaks the hug. His breath goes back to normal and tears stop falling.

“I’m just… overwhelmed…” He clears his throat. “Overwhelmed by the Almighty’s love for me.”

Crowley makes a face he can’t figure out.

“Why did you hide?”

The strange face turns into one of confusion.

“Because… you didn’t want him to know I’m here?”

“N-no. I mean… why did you… help me?”

“I’ve said it before, angel, I didn’t come to ruin your life. I just want your help. So I helped you.”

“Crowley, even if I wanted to help you, I couldn’t. If Gabriel finds out…”

“He won’t. I mean, if you decided to help me… I wouldn’t tell. You can trust me on this. Everything would be nice and discreet and you could move on as soon as it was over. I don’t think it’ll take that long, to be honest. Just a few interviews.”

Aziraphale gives it a thought.

“You won’t tell anybody.”

“Not a living soul,” Crowley promises, raising his hand.

“And you won’t change anything that I tell you, even if it goes against your personal beliefs.”

“Even if you say I eat babies for breakfast.”

“This is serious. I could lose everything.”

Suddenly, Crowley does look serious. He takes off his glasses and stares deeply into his eyes, hands resting on his shoulders.

“Angel, I won’t let anybody hurt you, alright? Nothing bad will happen to you.”

And for some reason… he trusts him. He shouldn’t, but he does. Not like he trusts Gabriel, who is able to punish him if he misbehaves and will not hesitate. Not like he trusts his brothers and sisters, who will tell Gabriel anything that falls out of line and get him punished because those are the rules. He trusts Crowley in a completely different way.

“I suppose we have a deal, then.”

“Great. When do you think we can start?”

“Tomorrow, perhaps? I can close early.”

“Tomorrow works for me. Four pm?”

“Four pm it is.”

Crowley walks to the front door, this time without interruptions.

“See you later, A. Z. Fell.”

“Aziraphale is fine, dear.”

The fallen chuckles.

“Dear is fucking amazing.”

Once Crowley is gone, Aziraphale returns to the backroom, sits on his favourite couch and opens the Black Book on his lap. He goes through the pages, passing the waitress he didn’t destroy last week, the one who almost got him destroyed, till he finds Crowley’s picture again. No glasses, longer hair, but still him. Aziraphale can't help but wonder what made such a nice seeming man leave the blessing that is the Ineffable Church. He soon decides he’s not ready for the answer.

“What have I done?” he whispers, tracing Crowley’s features with his fingertips. Despite the guilt filling his heart, he stares at the picture till he runs out of sunlight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How do you know him?”  
“I tried to interview him a couple weeks ago. Didn’t go that well.”  
“Why?”  
“Everything was fine till I told him I was a fallen, too. Then he panicked and tried to punch me. Figured I should leave him alone. He yelled a few… not very nice things.” He humourless chuckles at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just finished this chapter. It isn't betaread, but I hope it's readable. Warning for a brief mention of implied suicide attempt (not any main character). See you soon! :)

Just as he promised, Crowley shows up the next day at four o’clock. Aziraphale has already closed the bookshop by now, curtains safely shut with the smallest space to look out. This is the moment when he wishes his business had dark alleys at each side, like so many buildings in London do, so he could have asked Crowley to use a more discreet entrance. Now his only option is to wait for him to arrive and run outside as fast as he can till they’re properly hidden from Gabriel and his million eyes.

The clock announces 16:00 and Aziraphale hopes for a second that Crowley forgot, that he didn’t intend to take it this far, that he changed his mind or found someone else. But soon enough all of his hopeful theories are proven wrong. Right before that 01, a huge classic car in perfect state that screams “look at me!” stops just by the bookshop. The call of the claxon seems to shake the ground under his feet.

Aziraphale doesn’t have time to do a face palm before completely panicking, running outside while desperately shushing and getting into the backseat of the vehicle.

“What exactly are you trying to do?!” he whispers in the angriest way possible.

“Figured you wouldn’t want me in your shop again, ‘s all,” Crowley shrugs.

“And why did you think I’d be okay with…” He gives up mid-sentence, fixing his coat and looking in every direction. “I hope nobody has seen us.”

“Well, I hope that, too. I didn’t have this car when I was with them. Imagine how creepy it’d be if they recognized it.”

“Once again, my dear, you underestimate the power of the Ineffable Church. After all, God is on our side.”

“Then let’s pray she doesn’t tell on us.”

Aziraphale groans and rolls his eyes, questioning again why he decided to get implicated in such a betrayal. He keeps telling himself this is not a betrayal at all. They both agreed on this. This deal is the opportunity for the Ineffable Church to be seen under a more positive light by people who never thought about it or even had actively negative thoughts. He doesn’t need to tell a lie to make it happen. He can be 100% honest and get hundreds of new followers. Gabriel would be so proud.

But, if that’s the case, why can’t he just tell him? He knows the answer. Crowley, as nice and quirky —and good-looking, God forbid it— he might seem, is a fallen. The enemy. And he’s just the type. Cynical, sarcastic, unapologetic. The charisma is part of the façade. Somebody this confident is clearly on something. No matter how nice and quirky —and good-looking— he seems. Aziraphale knows better than trusting a fallen. He’s only doing it to get good press for the church.

“You know there’s a passenger seat, right?” says Crowley, making him jump out of his thoughts.

“The backseat is alright. I wouldn’t want to draw a lot of attention to myself.”

Crowley protests a bit, but he nods anyway.

“So, angel, where’d you like to do it? Here in the car or…?”

Aziraphale’s eyes open wide.

“_Iknewitletmeout_,” he chokes out, already trying to open the door.

“Angel, calm down!” Crowley laughs. “I was talking about the interview.”

Aziraphale freezes at the words and goes limp against the seat, exhaling.

“Of course, of course,” he quickly recovers. “The… the interview…”

“Wanna do it in the car?”

“Better not. In fact, I’d rather leave the neighbourhood, if you don’t mind. Too many familiar faces.”

“We could go to my flat.”

He hesitates at the offering. Crowley is not only the first fallen he talks to, but also the first person outside the church he holds a substantial conversation with since he joined. Visiting his flat is, of course, absolutely new and out of place. The Ineffable Church has strict rules about interacting with fallen members, but it doesn’t encourage entering the territory of any outsider either, unless it is part of a missionary work. Since Crowley can’t return to the church, this hardly qualifies as the only admitted possibility.

However, the thought of someone catching them in a public place is so much worse. His flat should be a safe space. Even though there are some rumours going around, no fallen was ever confirmed to hide terrible satanic rituals at their home. It’s probably just a story to scare children, except these children are…

_Careful there_, he hears Gabriel’s voice in his mind and shakes his head to make everything go away, so he can give Crowley a reply.

“I suppose we don’t have any better options.”

“My flat it is.”

A few minutes later, while they drive through the streets of London, Aziraphale sees one of the familiar faces sitting in a corner, on the ground. Luckily, this particular face can’t do a lot against him.

“You knew him?” asks Crowley, maybe catching something in his expression through the mirror.

Aziraphale shudders as they pass by the man whose begging blue gaze he has avoided so many times.

“Yes,” he admits like he’s confessing a murder. “We never talked that much, but I helped cleaning the building we bought for him before he turned it into a bakery. I don’t remember his name, sadly.”

“Roger,” Crowley clarifies.

“How do you know him?”

“I tried to interview him a couple weeks ago. Didn’t go that well.”

“Why?”

“Everything was fine till I told him I was a fallen, too. Then he panicked and tried to punch me. Figured I should leave him alone. He yelled a few… not very nice things.” He humourless chuckles at that.

Aziraphale relaxes again. Maybe it was not as simple as he thought. Maybe Roger wasn’t such a good man as he seemed and even had violent tendencies. Maybe he tried to punch Gabriel or another archangel, and they were sensitive enough not to announce it and make his fall worse for his ex-wife.

He feels rather silly now. All this time he had thought Gabriel had condemned someone just for showing minimal human decency, when the man in question actually did something so much worse. He let this crazy idea get into his head with such conviction, he felt for a second like Gabriel knew he was fraternizing with a fallen and was playing mind games with him to somehow manipulate him into who-knows-what. God, he could even laugh out loud at his own imagination if Crowley wasn’t still taking.

“Hey, it’s alright, I get it. He lost everything over a single interaction with someone like me. Not me who he should be punching, but I wouldn’t ask for too much.”

Aziraphale’s heart sinks. He was hoping Crowley would reveal some terrible secret about why Roger had fallen. Now he’s certain that everything happened just like he thought.

“How’s the ex?” says Crowley, out of curiosity.

“You mean Sally?” The name comes to his mind almost immediately.

“Yeah, how is she… taking it, after all this time? ’Cause the poor lad told me a few things before he knew who I was. They seemed… quite in love.”

“Oh, they were!” Aziraphale exclaims before he can’t stop himself. “But… Oh, well, it was difficult at the start. The disappointment, more than anything else. It is not easy to process. But I think she’s doing fine.”

“Good to hear that.”

Aziraphale sighs. Sally tried to commit suicide last summer. No one talks about it, no one has ever mentioned it —not even herself—, but he knows. She started growing quieter and sadder. Her eyes lost their spark. Then she disappeared for a few months and came back being the person she used to be. Even though he can tell she’s not the same —he has heard her crying when she thought she was alone a couple times—, she’s recovering.

And the Ineffable Church has been incredibly considerate with her. Year after year, it gets more complicated to deal with the increasing amount of siblings who are forced to cut all relationship with fallen members. You can’t save everyone, and they still have a lot of new members to save, too. However, when it came to Sally, Gabriel and the archangels were a remarkable support. She’s now living at the centre of worship —with lots of siblings who don’t have anywhere to go— and everyone takes care of her like only a family could.

It’s sad, Aziraphale finds himself thinking. Entire lives destroyed for the sake of pleasing God. How amazing it is to please Her, how thankful he is for having Her and his siblings in his life, but he can’t help but…

“Almost there, angel,” Crowley lets him know.

The reality of his voice hits him like a train. Roger did fall over a misfortunate smile. He lost his business, his home, his wife. He has to sleep in the street and is afraid of people like the man driving this car to a place Aziraphale has never been to. And he’s right! Because they are the enemy. They ruined him by simply going into his bakery, like Crowley went into his bookshop.

Aziraphale suddenly feels an unnameable dread landing on his chest. Sandalphon saw him helping a fallen and warned Gabriel. Gabriel has been warned. Gabriel is willing to lose him. To lose him means he loses… everything he owns. It’s like they… like they own…

But these feelings are absurd. There is no reason to be this scared. Because even if they owned him, they wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. They are his family.

“Angel, we’re here.”

He takes a deep breath before opening the door.

His family would never hurt him.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me existing on my Tumblr im-the-ineffable-dumbass.tumblr.com Bye! <3


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